Dying Beside You
by mayelbrid
Summary: Aragorn / Boromir thought fic. Say what is in your heart, before it is too late. Very mild implied slash. Aragorn / Boromir pairing.


**  
**A short thought fic. A look inside the heads of Boromir and Aragorn. V angsty.   
  
Of course none of the characters are mine, and I'm not quite sure where the inspiration came from, not being a Boromir/Aragorn shipper myself. Its just one of the little bugs that get into my head while I'm working on my baby ( Against The Dying Of The Light, a long Legolas based future fic) and wont stop buzzing until I write it down.  
  
Mild implied slash. Don't like it, don't read it.   
  
Ask if you want to archive please.   
  
Reviewers get to blow the horn of Gondor.**  
  
  
Dying Beside You...  
  
**Isildur's heir, your eyes are cold when they turn toward me. I know your thoughts. You do not trust me. You believe that I am weak, greedy, unwise. I watch you mentally check off each point on your list of doubts every time we speak.  
  
Lost Son of Gondor, I believe you see in me everything you fear about yourself.  
  
The ring tempts me. Have I ever denied it? It tempts you also, though you claim you would refuse it's siren song. This is a fool's quest we are set upon, delivering into the hands of the enemy the very thing he desires most. It is all he needs to destroy us.   
  
Great evil will come from this futile mission, but in Gondor, in my hands, the ring could be used for the good of man. This ring could secure our future, not bring about its end. We could become great, you and I, if you would but see it.  
  
Aragorn, you are blinded by the elves. Their fair faces and false, soft voices have bound you helplessly into their spell.  
  
It is you, friend, who are weak. I should condemn you for succumbing to their trickery. Your mind has been poisoned against your own people. Gondor would welcome you as a King if you would but use this ring to save it. If your path is set toward Mordor, then I fear you will be named a fool and a betrayer by the few who yet have voices as Minas Tirith crumbles.  
  
I know your choice is wrong, ranger. I know you lead us into death and disaster. I know I will not be heard, my pleas will be dismissed, my questions will go unanswered. I know that you lead us blindly toward the end of days. I know all these things.  
  
I know also that I will follow you.  
  
I will go with you through folly and danger and death, because you carry my heart in your hands, though you never will know it. If we are to die, I would die beside you.  
  
Your will, Aragorn, your certainty, your determination. These qualities draw me to you, though their focus may be askew.  
  
You are fairer to look upon than any of the elven folk, with their unnatural beauty and eyes that pierce your very soul and fill it with their foul enchantments. Your face is a map of your pure, human soul, it has battle scars, and marks of age, but it remains composed, set firm against all that assails you. If your mind were but set to the right cause I know we would triumph over darkness together, warriors, brothers......  
  
I am aware that your heart lies elsewhere. The chain about your neck taunts me daily with its wicked light. It is but another magic. Another bewitchment that you cannot see. The love of this lady is what guides you to your doom. It guides you, Aragorn, it guides me, and it guides us all upon this cursed journey.  
  
But I do not speak of this. I cannot tell you all that I know to be true, for you would not understand. You do not trust me, Aragorn, you do not like me. But you do not hate me, and that small knowledge soothes my anguished soul.  
  
I can never tell you what I feel, that each time you look into my eyes and I see how you think of me, each time I watch your hand close around that pendant, each moment I spend knowing my love will never be returned, I feel like I am dying beside you.  
  
*******************  
  
Boromir, brave and true when it counted most, why did I never trust the loyalty in your eyes?  
  
The same mortal blood ran in your veins as does in mine. The same human desires, human weaknesses. What right had I to judge you by what I can scarce control in my own nature? Your heart was as true as my own.  
  
I was wrong, and can never now be forgiven.  
  
I shunned you, Brother, and you will never know how it pained me to do so. But in your company, the temptation was too great, I dared not become close to you.  
  
It was my weakness, and not yours, that I hated so. There were moments when I would have given the ring, the fellowship, the quest, just for one soft word from your lips, for one embrace, one chance to hold you.  
  
These things come, but too late. Too late.  
  
There was a time when I thought my heart rested in the Golden Wood of Lorien, or within the calm sanctuary of Imladris. Now do I know that my heart will remain forever here, at Amon Hen, by the falls of Rauros. I leave my heart where you were so cruelly stolen from me.  
  
I loved you, Boromir. It shall be my greatest regret that you only knew as you were dying beside me.


End file.
